“Naomi?”
The surprise and pure joy in Ethan Blackwood’s voice made Naomi Sinclair’s lips curl into a cold, private smile.
Relief, more than anything.
Every previous call had been met with his clipped impatience, his distant tone. This was the first time he had spoken her name like a man who finally understood what he had lost.
Men really were the same everywhere. They never valued what they held until it slipped through their fingers.
“Mr. Blackwood,” Naomi answered evenly, “you should adjust how you address me. From now on, it’s simply Naomi Sinclair.”
Silence stretched on the other end of the line.
She did not wait for him to recover. “Do you remember what I told you about Lily’s custody papers? I want them transferred to me.”
“I remember.” Ethan’s voice had gone rough.
“I’m at
